Last Regrets
by LadyBadass
Summary: "Every single day, I am reminded of my mistakes. They haunt me, when I'm asleep, when I'm awake. What ever I do, I constantly associate my surroundings with that island. I can't-" she was broken off by loud sobs wracking her body. His arms wrapped around her small frame and together, they sat there, two broken souls fighting to regain sanity. "I just can't do anything but regret."
1. Chapter 1

**Soundtrack: The Future Is Now - The Offsprings**

**My first Lord of The Flies fanfiction, guys! And I'm going mainstream and doing the whole Girl on The Island thing, though I'm doing it quite differently from others. You'll see in a minute! Anyways, b****efore I start, I'd like to inform that I've set the time to the twentieth century, simply because I don't want to go all oldschool on the story having to be all hung up with phrases and other things. Also, I'm not British and although I'm not American either, I'll be more accurate if the characters are form the United States, so well just stick to that, Okay? :) S****orry, I'm dragging this note out, for sure. Anyways, read the one at the bottom too, if you need some more explaining, I don't know. **

**Hope you enjoy! :D**

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><p>LAST REGRETS<p>

The pencil was shaking in her hand as the tip of it touched the still empty paper before her. She took a deep breath, trying - and failing - at calming herself. Anxiety had been a quite common symptom of hers over the past couple of weeks. That, alongside paranoia and borderline suicidal.

Resting her head in her hands, she stared at arms sticking out from each side of her head, the fresh slashes drawn across them. This was why she was assigned to write things down. They'd told her it would help, that it would make it easier to forget. But how could this possibly help her forgetting, when she was now pressuring herself to remember?!

Anyways, she'd been procrastinating for the past six days, hiding the book in the back of her closet so that she wouldn't have to spot it anywhere near her presence, even when empty. But tomorrow she would be returning to the doctors office. And she needed to at least have written _something_! Something to show that she was willing to cooperate. Something to show that she was walking the road of recovery, no matter how many worn out her legs were and how she stumbled at every cross and turn.

_Just breath_, she told herself, her entire body shaking as she tried to dig up at least one memory of her past. One that she could write down and share tomorrow. She knew she'd be getting in trouble if she didn't. More trouble, anyways. And she certainly did not want that.

Glaring daggers at the plain peace of sheet before her, she brushed the lead of her pencil across the parchment and started writing.

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><p><em>It all started with the sailing trip. My parents had been pestering my principal nonstop about getting me and my brother off school for a week and they finally agreed to it due to our straight A's. Well, my straight A's anyways. Saying the same for my brother would be a lie.<em>

_So I was lying on the deck of the sailboat when it happened. 45 minutes into getting that lovely tan I'd been longing for, I was excited to return to home for the pleasure of showing it off to my friends. I was currently switching songs on my iPod, and that was when the weather took an unexpected turn._

_One moment; the sun had been blooming on the cloudless sky as the waves softly bruised the Catamaran we'd been renting. The next thing I knew; the sun was blocked by a net of grey as thunder came crashing down onto the sea surrounding my entire family._

_I could hear the sound of the kitchen equipment down under deck falling onto the ground, harmonizing chaotically with the hysteric faint calls from my dad. Turning around I found him clutching the steering wheel of the boat as it rocked from side to side. My mom and brother where holding onto the ropes of the boat for dear life as they tried to lower the sails to gain some control of the ship._

_Grabbing my iPod in one hand and holding onto the railing on the side of the boat, I slowly made it towards the back where my dad was steering without a single clue of the destination. _

_'Get downstairs!' he yelled. 'Find the lifejackets!'. I fought the urge to retort some snarky comment at him as always, but instead I fought against the force of the strong wind and made it to the entrance of the lower compartment. _

_I'd expected it to be easier walking around freely downstairs, but walking down the staircase was even more challenging then being up on deck. A wave collided with the side of the boat causing my wrist to collide with the floor as I tumbled to the ground in a heap of pain and sour curses._

_IPod forgotten, I got up supporting my self with my one still functioning hand, stumbling back and forth struggling to gain balance as the ship would not stay still. Another wave hit the side of the ship and sent me flying across the small kitchen, crashing into the door leading to the bedrooms. It swung open by the force of my body, yet didn't lower my fall by the slightest._

_Lying on the ground I struggled with getting back up again, my arms shaking hysterically. My dad was calling again, but this time, he wasn't calling for me. I realized my mom was screaming to and I could faintly make out the name of my brother being called out. When I turned to look out of the tiny window that lead to the deck I only saw my mom standing my the sails and it took me multiple long, life draining seconds to realize that he was thrown off deck._

_Running to fetch the life jackets, the door swung shut in the process, and when I returned to the exit, it wouldn't budge. _

_Screaming, I hit my knuckles against the smooth wood, my broken wrist pounding at the impact, my throat turning dry as I kept screaming the name of my brother and when I no longer heard the voices of my parents; I cried out for them too. _

_At last, the ship made impact with what felt like a reef and the last thing I was able to comprehend was how having your head thrown up against a door knob hurts like hell. And that was when I blacked out._

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><p>She was called back to reality by the voice of the woman downstairs.<p>

'Mallory! It's time for dinner!' the woman called, her voice cheerful and carefree, as if none of the unfortunate events occurring in the world could ever get to her.

She wished she was that lucky.

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><p><strong>So, you may or may not be hating me for switching the point of views from first to third person. I know for a fact that I hate it when people do that in stories, but maybe you noticed a pattern in this one? Anyways, for those of you that didn't: This girl - Mallory - is writing about her past experiences of being stuck at an island with all these boys. Every time I write someones thoughts (like in the beginning when she tells herself to "just breathe"), I'll be writing them in cursive and also in first person as for the fact that it's their thoughts. So that is kind of what I decided to do. In every chapter there will be around 100-500 words of her sitting around in her room writing this, and it's all building up for the ending. Anyways, I'm not giving you more then this. You'll have to figure the rest of it out on your own! ;) <strong>

**So thanks for reading and if you enjoyed please click favorite/follow and leave a review! Hope I'll see you soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Soundtrack: Lost It All - Black Veil Brides**

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><p>LAST REGRETS<p>

'So, Mallory, what've you been up to?' the woman before her asked, trying to break the everlasting, painful silence crowding the emptied out kitchen.

She was staring down at the plate before her, desperately avoiding the loving gaze of the aging woman. Using her fork, she eagerly poked her still untouched food, taking no initiative to actually _eat_ what she had been served.

When being on the island, food was the most sacred tool, falling second to water. Returning to civilization, there had been quite a few happy teenagers who gladly ate whatever food they'd get their hands on. The boys would be rambling on at interviews about how extreme their craving for cookie dough had gotten after a week at the island, and how by the time they got back to the US, fudge seemed to be the only word their stuck up minds were able to register.

She on the other hand, she had gone on with suffering. Besides her happiness for them being able to move on, she didn't see how they weren't stuck in the past the same way she was.

'Mallory?' the woman called sweetly, trying to possess at least an ounce of her attention in hopes of managing to gain an answer for once. She was the one that had signed her up for an extra hour of therapy a week as well as a group therapy.

'Uhm...' she started, pushing her chair back as she proceeded to get up. 'Thanks for the dinner.' In swift movements, she made her way to the exit of the kitchen, not giving the woman enough time to even think of a reply before she had left her to eat dinner by herself.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, Mallory couldn't help but feel an urge to be back by her desk, writing in that book of hers.

The moment she had shut the door to her room behind her, she made a beeline for her desk where she sat back down and started writing the moment she opened up the page she was on.

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><p><em>I never got to know how much time I spent knocked out - in fact, I'm still wondering - but I do know that when I woke up, it was mid day and the sun was shining brightly. Depending on how it felt as if my skin was on fire, I am guessing that I'd been laying out in the sun for quite a while.<em>

_Opening my eyes I realized that I was no longer inside the boat. In fact, I wasn't anywhere near the boat in the first place. Taking in my surroundings the first thing I noted was the trees. Loads and loads of trees in refreshingly green shades. And they certainly weren't of the same type as those I'd spot in the parks back home. No, these were so fresh, so vividly alive and... Attached to sand? _

_Lowering my gaze, I noted how the roots of the trees did in fact connect with sand, as light and soft as powder. My eyes glided along the sand, and I groaned loudly when I noticed how the sand led to water. The clear blue followed my sight as far as I could spot the horizon._

_'This better not be an island...' I muttered under my breath, getting onto my feat only to loose balance and stumble back onto the ground again. My legs were aching. Well, at least they ached more then the rest of my body at that point. _

_After I'd been lying facedown in the sand for god knows how long, I finally gathered what little was left of my strength and got up. For the first time I noticed the one other object left on the island, that most definitely didn't belong there; our ship. _

_What was left of it anyways. _

_It was split in half, making what had previously been a catamaran look like just another ordinary sailboat with an enormous hole running along one side._

_Staggering over to the wreckage to get a proper look at it, I realized for the first time that a sore body would be the least of my issues. The sun was beaming and a headache was already building up, making me grow dizzier by the second._

_Smooth waves brushed my bare legs as I closed the distance between me and the remains of our catamaran. It was lying on it's side, the hole exposed on the top. Reaching up and standing on the tip of my toes, I was just barely able to curl my fingers around the edges of the gap. With tightened muscles and an exasperated facial expression I lifted myself up, throwing my leg into the opening, rolling inside of the boat._

_The skewed position of the boat though, caused me to slide across the floor, my back hitting the small kitchen counter roughly in the process. Letting out a groan, I grabbed the edge of the dining table, using it as support as I got onto my feet. The table was shattered across the middle, leaving behind a set of planks barely held together. Applying my weight to the worn wood, the peace I was holding onto broke off, allowing me to collapse yet again._

_I gotta tell you; over my stay on the island, one thing I would _never _get used to, was the pain of being slammed into solid surfaces and such. _

_My hand was still clenched around the small piece of wood, but instead of tossing it away, I placed it in my lap, before reaching out towards what was left of the table. This time tough, I didn't try to pull myself up, instead using all my strength to pull off another chunk of lumber. I continued this process, breaking off individual pieces of the counter and laying them all in my lap. _

_Two broken fingernails, a table and an abundance of curse words later, I had finally managed getting all the wood stacked up. I grabbed the "bag" I had made out of my fathers untouched hoodie which had been lying around in the room. After having secured the sweater so that there were no cracks, I had filled it up with the planks, leaving me with a rather convenient bag of some sort to transport it all across the short, yet difficult terrain that the boat had turned into._

_Placing the bag in front of me and crawling across the floor on all four, I placed my knees behind the hoodie, making sure to push it along with me. My hands were busy with clawing at anything secure within reach in an attempt at dragging myself upwards. Sweat drops were trickling down the sides of my face and my breath was catching in my throat as every muscle in my upper body tightened at an attempt to pull myself the final couple of meters I had left._

_Another fingernail was torn off of my hand in the process of escaping the boat. _

_Having finally found my feet back on the ground, was beyond a relief to me. The sun had moved further down on the sky, informing me that my effort at gathering firewood had taken quite a lot of time. _

_I turned away from the boat and - not feeling in the mood to be anywhere near it anymore - stumbled off across the beach, walking along the shore for god knows how long until I seated myself in the sand in a location as equal as what I'd been seeing all along during my walk. I placed the planks in what I hoped was a functioning position for me to start a fire. _

_After having settled down with only using half the wood the first time, I got up and entered the jungle behind me. I didn't get far; the sun was closing its distance with the surface of the ocean and the light was slowly being drenched from the sky in the process, leaving dark shadows dancing along the edges of the forest, giving off a chilling vibe. There would be no discussion; exploring the jungle could wait until tomorrow._

_So instead I bent down and picked up the first two rocks I could find. I grabbed a couple of branches within my reach as well, though to none of my surprise, the humid air had left all plants too fresh and juicy. Although the trees wouldn't work for a fire, there might be a drinkable liquid inside the tree trunks._

_Unfortunately I didn't have the right tools for it, and I was lacking energy to the point where I could faint right then and there and I knew for a fact that if you were stuck choosing between collapsing onto some rough roots in a dark, mysterious forest, or lie down onto the soft sand by a warm fire, no person in their right mind would chose anything but the latter._

_So I got back onto my feet and retreated to shore where the remnants of the table that once used to belong to my fathers beloved boat were lying around. I sat down on my knees my what I prayed would work as firewood, slamming the two stones against each other in hopes of igniting fire._

_Time passed unnoticeably as I over and over slammed the stones together. By the time the slightest spark brushed past one of the smaller pieces of the former table, I had collapsed onto the ground next to the growing fire, my hands aching beyond belief, my every breath heavy from the suspense that had been swallowing me up for the past hours._

_The sun had finally set, turning the damp air into a freezing chill which ran up my spine. I grabbed the sack hoodie and buried myself in it as I laid by my fire, watching the sparks fly as the darkness enveloped the rest of the island._

_Not up until that moment did realization finally dawn on me. Not until the moment when my exhaustion had taken away my survival instincts and my will to fight, was I left with the reality I hadn't been able to comprehend. Not until then was I finally ready to face the truth; my family was gone._

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><p><strong>Sorry about the long wait and the short update. School is just all over the place and I've been too exhausted to even bother getting this story anywhere. Anyways, I know where this is headed and I'm gonna try and update more frequently.<strong>

**Thanks to MusicLoverNA, Held Together With Tape, fuckusername and writeractually for favoriting and/or following the story. And a big thank you to TigerLily2214 and the mysterious guest reviewer, I appreciated your inputs _a lot_. I'm just wondering one thing: what were my spelling mistakes? They might've just been something I didn't notice when rereading through the chapter, but if it's a common mistake of mine I'd like to correct it! ;)**

**I really appreciate all feedback I get on my stories, and constructive criticism is the best, so don't be shy! If you have any thoughts on the story, just tell me. Although I have the majority of the story figured out, I love it when people share their ideas which I could always braid in with what I've already got. So go ahead and review! :D**


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